Of Longing And Laughter And Love
by Graysonation
Summary: "Men always want to be a woman's first love – women like to be a man's last romance." – Oscar Wilde (Offically a sequel to "Something Obvious," but it stands alone fine. More Spencer / Seaver, in honor of Singles Awareness Day!)


**Author's Note:** HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY! . . . Best excuse I could come up with to dash off a quick little oneshot for the first time in freakin' forever. And y'all have my apologies on that; there aren't even words to explain how insane school and work have gotten this year, with graduation coming up and projects raining down on us and so, so, so, SO many people to take care of at the Hotel. 'Tis nuts. (I wouldn't trade it for anything.

Anyhoo . . . Been reading a lot of "Heroes" stuff lately (if anyone's not yet stumbled upon FieryEclipse and all of her Peter/Sylar glory, I say go for it; the stuff gorgeous!), so I was considering another of my crossovers for the day, but I was kind of musing on here and Youtube, and I just got in the mood to visit one of my old favorite pairings. Prepare, for once, for some het! (I know; WHAT?)

 **Kudos:** Thanks a million to anyone reading this at all. I've been pretty absent lately, but I've managed to talk to a few of you lovely folks, and I'm doing better. Your concern gives me a lot of strength.

 **Warnings:** Cheesiness and fluff - the Valentine's Day stuff! Rejoice in corny love as we all mourn our single status again this year. (Or celebrate it; or mourn being in a couple; or rejoice. I don't care for specifics, just have a lovely day, damn it!)

 **Disclaimer:** "Criminal Minds" isn't mine, else Seaver would have been on the show long enough to have Reid's babies, at least.

Don't feel the need to review. Go ahead if you want, but I'd really rather you just have a lovely holiday. Spread the love!

* * *

 ** _Of Longing and Laughter and Love_**

* * *

 _"Men always want to be a woman's first love – women like to be a man's last romance." – Oscar Wilde_

* * *

The bright light of noon spread slowly through the room, picking up and mirroring every object it touched as the sun shone throughout the apartment of one Spencer Reid. Shadows danced off of the many piles of books that littered the floors, and carried up dust from the shelves of relics and toys from a childhood long left behind. Peeking in through the slimmest of cracks in his shades, the world outside tried to become known to the two agents sleeping in the home.

Well, one sleeping agent. The other one was bustling quietly in the kitchen, preparing the daily pot of coffee that he and his coworker would easily down well before any mention of 'lunch' was made.

Warm in his flannel bottoms and old FBI Academy T-shirt, Spencer Reid hummed a small sigh of contentment to himself as he perched on the edge of a pristine countertop, waiting for his drink to finish percolating. Despite the lofty stack of case files that the genius knew were waiting for him in his office just down the hall, he couldn't help the small burble of good feelings that rushed him on mornings such as these: mornings after which he and his team had successfully solved a case in time to bring home the victim alive; mornings when, all too rarely, no life had been lost, and healing would be a large mountain to climb, but not an _impossible_ one; mornings before which he had gotten a good night's sleep, calm and fulfilled and in the arms of the woman he loved.

On that thought, Spencer cast his glance over to the living room, just able to see the back of the couch from his vantage point. All he could see of Ashley were the few scraggly locks of blonde hair splayed over the arm of the old leather piece of furniture — but even that was enough to send his stomach cartwheeling through his throat again.

Sometimes, he couldn't help but question the reality of all this. Spencer was a man who lived his life in facts and figures, statistics and percentages and numbers twice over. When something . . . unpredictable . . . came along into his life, the young agent was well-known for his ability to cope with it. But the initial surprise always lofted quite an impact over the man, no matter how well he handled the situation, or even how much time had passed.

After all; it had been months since he and the beautiful Ashley Seaver had disclosed the 'officialness' of their relationship to their Unit Chief, and closing in on a year since they'd been together . . . but it never failed to make Spencer question the sheer upturn of his life, the damn _good luck_ that had brought him someone to care for and hold, someone to trust and be with, someone to _love_ as much as he did.

It almost wasn't fair. She was so perfect.

Well, perfect in a _relative_ sense, Spencer reasoned with himself as the beep of the coffee machine resounded through the kitchen. Obviously, everything had it's own flaws — and admittedly, his relationship with the younger coworker had had ups and downs through their time together, and likely would continue to do so, no matter how long —

"You're thinking too hard."

A soft had swatted at the back of his head, and in spite of jumping at the sudden noise, Spencer grinned against his mug.

"Technically impossible," he murmured, not turning around. "I haven't even started the day yet."

"Proof of my point," Ashley chided as she reached around Spencer's waist to grab her own coffee mug. "You're barely awake, Spencer — _way_ too early to be putting that big ole' brain to use."

"Old? You're, like, _three years,_ younger than me!" Spencer whirled around, and Ashley ducked under his arm, grabbing the pot with a speed and grace Spencer could only marvel at, him having nothing similar in comparison.

"So, technically," she sassed over her shoulder, "You _are_ older than me, _doctor_."

Spencer grumbled, not wanting to concede the point as he sat down at the table, yanking the canister of sugar closer, and helping himself to a heaping spoonful. Or three.

"Not enough to make a difference," he said, stirring. "Studies have shown that — "

" _Too early_ , Spencer," Ashley interrupted, fishing for the creamer in the fridge.

Red flooded the genius's cheeks, and he looked down. "R-right, sorry."

There was a brief pause, and then the sound of the table creaking as Ashley hopped onto it, sitting only inches away from where Spencer's hand still draped protectively over his mug.

"Hey, Spencer," She waited until their eyes were meeting, and offered her small smile. "It's okay. I like it. And _you_ ," she added easily, grin growing wider, when Spencer's blush deepened. "You know that."

"You think I know everything," Spencer took a sip of his coffee, relishing the perfect sweetness as it rolled over his tongue.

"Pretty much," Ashely chirped, sipping her beverage too. "Lucky for you I've got this _thing_ for old, hot nerds."

Spencer choked on his drink.

* * *

It had, admittedly, taken a few minutes for Ashely to calm her riotous laughing at the mess her boyfriend had made all over the front of his shirt. There were too many times when the woman couldn't help teasing Spencer as much as possible; his reactions were adorable. And funny besides.

"Ash," the aforementioned man's voice echoed across the hallway, from the bedroom they shared, "Did you take my red shirt?"

Ashley looked down at the nubby, maroon fabric clutched between her fingers. How was she supposed to help herself if the man never bought any new clothes, and everything in his closet was soft and worn and smelled just like him?

"Maybe . . ." She called back instead.

Silence followed for just a moment, and Ashley could practically _hear_ Spencer rolling his eyes. Shaking her head slightly, the blonde propelled herself off of the edge of the table, slowly making her way to the bedroom.

Ashley leaned against the doorframe, sipping her coffee nonchalantly as Spencer dug through his dresser for another suitable shirt. She tried not to snicker when the man, finding nothing satisfactory, yanked out one of his many Oxfords and began buttoning it up — but, unsuccessful, her giggle permeated the room, and Spencer glanced around sharply for a moment before a minute grin tugged up one corner of his mouth.

Returning to his clothes, Spencer said, "One of these days, I might just decide that you're not worth the hassle and throw you out on the streets."

Ashley raised one eyebrow. "I highly doubt that, _honey_. You're not so cruel."

Chuckling slightly, Spencer shoved his drawer shut, and reached for his abandoned watch on the dresser-top. "I've had to do numerous harsh things in the line of duty. And you know how that carries over to our everyday lives."

"Goodness," Ashley deadpanned, eyes raking over Spencer's form as the man turned back around, fidgeting done. "You're a much tougher nut than I thought you were."

Spencer took a step closer. "I just really like the shirt," he purred — and, as was usually the case when they started playing with one another, Ashley had a hard time telling when Reid was having fun, and when he was being serious.

She went with the former.

"Well, if it means so much to you," she said, setting down her cup on the bedside table, "I would hate to deprive you of the company you treasure more. Relishing the wideness in the genius's eyes, she reached down and tugged the flannel over her head, balling it up and tossing it at Spencer's feet in one fluid motion, leaving her standing in nothing but an old pair of cotton briefs and a tank top that she'd had since her high-school days.

Taking a moment to love the way Spencer's jaw nearly dropped when he took in the sight of her body — that expression on his face that always made her feel so adored, so beautiful and wanted and loved — Ashley mumbled cheekily, "You look better in it, anyway."

"I — I h-highly doubt that," Reid swallowed tightly.

"No, no, it's fine," the blonde put a fake wounded expression on her face, playing the drama out and biting back more laughter at the shade of red Spencer's face had become. "I can just walk around like this. No big deal."

"Don't try to guilt-trip me!" Spencer protested, the smallest of smiles breaking the painfully embarrassed hold on his face. "Y-You can walk around n-naked for all I care."

"I bet you'd love that." When Reid spluttered, Ashley knew she had won. Mission accomplished, she swiveled around and sauntered out of the room, tossing over her shoulder, "Enjoy the view!"

It took a moment, but the words eventually came drifting out, "I always do."

* * *

"I think this is one of your case files," Spencer said, breaking the silence that had filled the living room for the past few hours as he and Ashley had settled in to work on paperwork for the evening, leaving their next day free to spend with one another.

The blonde looked up from her own stack of pages, frowning slightly. "I'm pretty sure it's not."

"It's got your ID number on it," Spencer insisted, flipping through one of the pages. "And it's a consultation with someone I never interviewed. I wasn't even present on this case!"

"Maybe you were, and you just forgot," Ashley shrugged, returning to her notebook.

Reid just stared. After a moment, Ashley seemed to realize exactly what she'd said. Her shoulders started shaking as the younger agent tried in vain to continue the facade of being serious.

When she looked up to see Spencer's stern expression locked on her, Ashley lost all control, and started giggling once more.

Spencer just watched her, not wanting to interrupt the moment; he loved the sound of Ashely laughing, a light, tinkling bell of a noise that made everyone around want to join in.

Or maybe Spencer was just biased. He preferred not to analyze that one too much.

Instead, clearing his throat, the young doctor struggled to put on his deepest, most authoritative voice. "Come and get your file, Ashley."

" _Ooh_ , it's _Ashley_ now, is it?" The blonde straightened herself up, shirt rumpled over her shoulders and eyes bright with amusement. "I must be in _big_ trouble with the big, bad _Dr. Reid_."

"Less so if you just let me get back to my work," Spencer quipped.

Ashley climbed to her feet, smile unwavering, having none of it. "Am I going to be _punished_ for my insolence, _Reid_?"

"Y-You haven't really b-been _insolent_ ," Spencer gulped as she stalked towards him, closer and closer.

"No?" Reid shook his head, and a positively _evil_ idea crossed Ashley's mind. Slowing her steps, the woman lowered her voice in the way she knew her boyfriend liked, providing a distraction as she prepared to make her move.

"What _would_ it take to get you a little riled up? Hmm?"

"I don't — "

Spencer's sentence went uncompleted as Ashley pounced, tackling the doctor to the floor and taking herself with him.

Sprawled out in a pile of limbs, it took each of them only seconds to realize their position — Spencer's back pressed against the floor, and Ashley on top of him.

Though each moved at the same time, Ashley's reactions — her _instincts_ — were simply quicker, and in one breath, she had captured both of Reid's wrists in one hand, pinning them above his head as she grinned wickedly down at him.

"Are you riled up _now_?"

Though his expression remained serious, the laughter was dancing in Spencer's eyes. "Hardly. I told you before — I've been through harsh things before. I can survive."

Ashley's eyes glinted. "Is that a challenge?" Not giving Spencer the time to answer, the blonde dug her fingers deep into his ribs.

Spencer let out a squawk he would never admit to making as Ashley began tickling him. Wriggling in his place on the floor, unable to get away because of the tightly-packed muscles pressing against his legs, Spencer gasped, desperately trying to stop laughing.

"S-suh- _stop!_ " He yelped, as Ashley only grinned at leaned in further, tickling harder.

"What? What was that, _sir_? I couldn't understand what you were saying?" As if to prove her power over the situation, Ashley released his hands, dedicating both of hers to making the genius squirm — and possibly stop breathing, it was unclear.

"Knock it off!"

"Never."

Spencer gasped as Ashley found a particularly sensetive spot on his back. "A-Ash, I s-s-s-swear, if you d-dont stop — _stop_ tick-tickling me, I'll — "

"You'll what?" Ashley lessened the intensity of her fingers, but refused to stop completely, instead quirking an eyebrow in challenge. "You'll _throw me out onto the streets?"_

"As — as if I'd ever l-let you leave!" Reid panted out, still trying to chuck the woman off of his chest.

"Am I supposed to call that a threat?" Ashley laughed, leaning in so her nose was pressing against Spencer's own. "You couldn't get rid of me if you tried, _doctor_."

Face flushed, staring into the bright obsidian of her eyes, Spencer was completely transfixed for a just a moment, heart racing faster than he would have liked to admit, mind flashing back to his thoughts earlier that morning, the way this marvelous woman above him was always happy and alive, a bright light in his life, the manner in which she teased him, that she knew how he took his coffee, how she looked in his clothes —

And completely without warning, Spencer darted his head up and stole the next words from Ashley's mouth as he pressed a fervent kiss to her lips.

Shock quickly faded, as the other body un-tensed and arms wrapped around Spencer's shoulders, keeping him upright as the two melted into one another. Outside, the clouds drifted lazily, a storm setting to roll in, completely at odds with the warmth spreading inside the apartment.

"Move in with me," Spencer mumbled suddenly, breaking the bliss of the last one-hundred and sixteen seconds as his hands stroked though the golden locks that smelled of coconut and almonds.

Against him, Ashley startled slightly. "What?"

Spencer leaned back, cupping Ashley's chin gently in his fingers, staring deep into her eyes. "I meant what I said — I don't ever want you to leave. Not even to go and get clean clothes." He shrugged. "Move in with me?"

Completely taken aback still, the girl would only gaze back, eyes searching over the smooth, pale planes of Spencer's face, searching for something she wasn't sure how to find.

Finally, it hit her. "You're serious?"

Reid was chewing on his upper lip, nerves starting to overwhelm him. "I . . . I always am. Acc-According to you, I mean . . ."

Ashley blinked. "Are you sure?"

"If you are."

It only took another moment of staring before the answer slammed into Ashley. "I . . . Absolutely. Of course! I . . . I'd love to, Spencer."

The smile that broke over Spencer's face would have split it in two, were it any gripped Ashely tighter in his hands, eyes dancing in a way that took years off of his face in an instant, making him look younger than ever.

"I love you, Ashley."

"Obviously," she snorted, and then kissed Spencer's cheek.

"I love you, too."

* * *

 **Author's Endnote:** Thanks for reading! Now, go eat overpriced candy and revel in the pink and red everywhere!


End file.
